From an unpublished Finnish manuscript, “Tämä kaikki on myös Bartokia” (2004)

Triangels sleeping
The rays’ kites
the world prevents the poem

I, accidentally, did a lot of
but the park was the same
so that I can tell

being one with everything
one can not be

lost my watch
beware of half-M.A.’s

Disturbing the park,
once and for all
the writing-work-gesture

invicible otherness

heaven the beginning of it all
going uphill
I invent a reason that doesn’t make use of words
unknown to the human race

I have learned from the waves
that there is a bull dwelling in my words
I let my fame resound

I know the people.
Fish does not like lions.
I’m Tove Jansson.

Sitting in a sunset
adding a black stone to the poem

remained on the skin, of a river
the sun’s oxygen flew into the region
dispersed over the lands
I wrote about the stones at the shore
a look

the tramway-turists’

The mirror shines backwards
two white flowers

World a collector’c voice
My soul starts to tumble
oftenly where you are

A bird flies out of the window
as I walk your land
with thoughts

In the evening
a guest came from the outer space
settled on a stone, breathing

Someone stood before the sun
I’m from the land of the oranges

Shadow from a tree
Feeling conceptual
Countries and people, full of watches

Now this life.
Don’t know if Debussy thought this way.
Art is a Social Democrat.
Stiff as Saint-Saen’s Swan.
In the enemy’s room
my painting is at its best.
Now the silks will enter.
Light puppets are of taft
silent pole people.

At the Distance-Attic a memory
the writing of the wind pearls
as a human being I am the same

in the clinic’s craddle the voices
first page light ones

from day to day
we live in each other
like the never-
written loves

Serov’s expanding parks
solutions offered

life’s untold intermediate
the nectar of ethics

The colours of commas
into the discussion
life is better
than Relander

A nature-child run away,
I said my name a thousand time,
then ceased

in the region white
the wind kisses
the trees’ leaves

on a running river
the river’s high placed
into evening

Donner’s movies
Holkeri like Väinö Linna’s brother